Sammy: It's All His Fault
by MVeneer
Summary: Sammy the Crow-eater has a really bad day and it's all the hot blonde biker's fault.


4

_**Author's Note: This is a more polished version of last year's April Fool's Day story. I've also added more stuff about the shortcomings of some of the men of SAMCRO.**_

**Sammy: This is all Jax's Fault**

Sammy was the head crow-eater or as Tig liked to put it she was the crow-eater who gave the best head. Tig was her least favorite Son. That guy had perversions, not major league gerbils inserted into body cavities stuff, but other weird shit like having sex while he had perm rods in his hair. What the hell kind of kink is that?

Juice was her favorite. He usually just wanted to cuddle and talk. Sometimes though, he liked to have her watch him while he did naked push-ups. It was hard to watch and not laugh. Poor Juice had gotten the short end of the dick stick.

The problem with being a crow-eater was you had to do whatever the Sons say or they kick your ass out of the clubhouse. Sammy was ambitious. She didn't want to be a crow-eater or even an old lady. She wanted to be a porn star.

SOA had connections to Cara Cara, the porn studio Sammy wanted to work for. She was hoping that some time as a crow-eater would help her get in good with the Sons who would help her get a job at Cara Cara.

Her ambitions didn't end there. She wanted to make a couple of porn films and then jump into real movies. The world needed a new romantic comedy star. With her curly golden hair and large blue eyes, she could out Meg Ryan Meg Ryan. She had it all down from the look how cute I am nose wrinkle to the smug smile. Meg Ryan had aged out of rom com roles decades ago creating an unfilled void.

With all the comic book movies, remakes of remakes and big screen versions of bad TV shows, eventually rom coms would come back and Sammy was going to be ready.

She sat on the exam table impatiently swinging her legs back and forth. She just wanted to get this over with and get the hell out of this room. She hated seeing doctors. There wasn't anything wrong with her. They could have just given her the damned test results over the phone, but no, thanks to some Hippie Law or something like that, they claimed they could only give her the results in person.

"Sorry for the wait," the doctor said, coming into the room. "Well, I have good news for you. You are still HIV negative."

"Woo hoo! Yes! Still negative," Sammy said cheering and punching the air just like in the rom com _You've Got Mail_.

"I'm afraid there's some bad news. Quite a bit of bad news actually," the doctor said looking down at a sheet of paper.

"Son of a bitch," Sammy said.

Actually, she thought, she should have said "sons of anarchy" because that's where whatever bad shit she was about to find out had happened to her. Those guys weren't just bikers; they were a disease recycling center.

"You have genital lice."

"Shit," Sammy said.

"You have crabs."

"If they get big enough, could I boil and eat them?"

Sammy opened her eyes wide. Sometimes she liked to play with people by pretending to be crazy stupid. No one ever caught on that she was just playing dumb. That made them the dumb ones.

"No. They aren't the kind you eat."

"I was thinking soup cause they're small."

"Still not the right kind. OK, then. You have Herpes Simplex 10."

"Still," Sammy said with a sigh.

"Genital psoriasis."

"What the hell! I didn't even know you could get that there."

"It's extremely rare. There have only been a handful of cases reported."

"Gonorrhea."

"Oh, hell."

"Syphilis."

"_Triple shit and fuck me!_ Isn't that the one that can make you crazy and blind?"

"Yes, untreated syphilis leads to insanity and blindness. We can cure it with antibiotics."

"Son of a bitch!" Sammy said dismayed. "I can't believe I have that. _Again_."

"You have chlamydia."

"Damn it."

"You also have HPV. Basically, you have every STD except HIV. Have you ever considered using condoms during sex?" the doctor asked trying to sound nonjudgmental.

"I always use them except with this one guy. He thinks he's too good for them. He also thinks he's great in bed. He knows exactly one sexual position and by the time he's in, he's out if you catch my drift. He's a cesspool of STDs."

"You should really tell him so he can get treated. Maybe I can help with that. What's his name?"

"Jax Teller."

"Is he the person who infected you?"

"He infected you too, doc. Aren't you his old lady?"

"_Triple shit_ _and fuck me!" _ Tara said.

There was going to be hell to pay when she got home tonight.

**Author's Note**

When the term cesspool of STDs came into my head, I knew I had to use those words today, so Sammy got a polish.

Of course, all SOA fans know that Sammy couldn't possibly be giving an accurate analysis of Jax's bedroom skills.

I originally planned a sequel to this story and got about 25% of the way through, but I knew I couldn't finish it today. Maybe I'll hold it until next year or maybe I'll finish it and post it.

_**I also posted another April Fool's Day story called Half-Sack Gets Tested.**_


End file.
